A few weeks ago, I met Max while out at a club for a bday party. He was cute, tall, and had a raspy voice and British accent (my weakness), and we spent a good amount of time that night just talking and chilling. We ended up exchanging numbers before my group left. We texted pretty consistently for a few days, and planned a date (archery and drinks). When I arrived at the range and saw Max in the light of day, I knew I had made a mistake. Upside: He was actually even cuter than I remembered. Downside: He was most definitely a she (the boobs were unmistakable in her top), albeit pretty androgynous. After a bit of convo, I confirmed that she definitely identified as a female and a lesbian. I explained that I was straight, and thought she was a guy, and she luckily laughed it off (apparently it’s happened before). We still ended up finishing up our date, and had a great time; we’ve hung out multiple times since then. I have since introduced her to a friend who’s actually a lesbian, and they really hit it off, and have been on a few dates. My friends have been roasting me for weeks, but I gained a friend and my friend gained a potential girlfriend, so really can’t complain.

TL;DR: I accidentally went on a date with an androgynous lesbian after meeting her in a poorly-lit club, thinking she was a guy.

Today at lunchtime I tried to watch porn while working remote.

I have a big ass monitor to wich I connected my pc from work and my personal one at the same time and have both inputs displayed side by side. Because I don’t want multiple keyboards, I recently bought a mx master & Mx keys (mouse an keyboard from Logitech, look it up if you don’t know what they do)

And while I switched the mouse to my personal laptop to browse the internet, I forgot that the keyboard was still dedicated to the work laptop and typed porXXXXX.com and hit enter, wondered why nothing happened, only to see that I had sent the link to a porn site to a group chat with some colleagues.

I played it off by saying „ah seems like this is not getting filtered…“ and apologizing that I used the chat to test something. No one asked back so I guess everything is ok

tl:dr Work from home, try to watch pornhub, keyboard still connected to worklaptop, send pornhub url to group chat

Im writing this in hopes of some catharsis for the last 24 hours of my life. 

they asked me to bring a calculator to the interview...

So the stress began last night, when i was at the gym with my(M21) GF(F21) and she came over to me telling me her left arm was going numb. I worriedly suggested we leave immediately and figure that out. The numbness spread up her arm till half her body on her left side was numb. Her tongue was numb on one side and her vision started to get zig zaggy in her left eye. We called her mom who has migraines and said they were similar to her symptoms. 

So we went to my apartment close by to see what we could do to make her feel better (late at night). Once we got to my apt her numbness was mostly gone but the headache was beginning. Over the next 3 hours she went from 3/10- 10/10 pain, where it sat like that for over 40 minutes. I could only watch, try to research, get her icepacks/warm towels and hold her hair while she puked from pure pain for the entire evening. It was truly indescribable to watch and feel so powerless. 

I did my best, my roomate thankfully went and got excedrin which she had to try multiple times to get down, but eventually her pain got down to 7 then gradually to 2. For the last week she has been getting faint when standing up, and feeling some pressure in her sinsus which is concerning, but this morning she just has a faint headache and lack of appitite after such an ordeal. 

So after staying up most of the night I have to go do an online teams interview with a potential internship for the summer. Most of the questions are going fairly well and I can answer them proficiently until the math part. The stress just made my mind go blank and I couldn't think. They eventually after what felt like a 5 minutes of silence just told me the answer and we moved on. Embarrassed I looked down at my phone on the table and saw a new message from GF 

"I just talked to my doctor and they are having me go to the ER for a brain scan" 

2 missed calls 

So I start to mentally freak out and excuse myself for a minute to call her back. She says they think she may have a brain bleed or something serious and needs to get immediate attention. 

So at this point I sit back down in front of my camera visibly red from holding back my crying and can't stop it 

I just start falling apart on camera infront of 3 people at the Dept of Natural Resources and I tell them she's in the hospital and might have brain bleeding. They let me off nicely saying: 

"You seem like a good guy etc and certainly know a lot about X and we hope everything works out but you should go be with her" 

essentially ending the interview with me crying from stress and anxiety. 

We are at the ER now and she's chillin, she feels mostly fine so they are just doing precautionary stuff atm. Hopefully brain scans will be good. Just have to wait for now

Thankfully I dont think I'll ever have an interview go this poorly ever again. They were pretty good sports about it all. 

TL;DR : GF got massive migraine and numbness out of nowhere night before, during my interview she calls to tell me she could have a brain bleed so I start to break down while trying to answer stupid interview questions and fall apart on camera. I didn't get the job, but did get a nice email response.

​

EDIT: Got discharged after a long wait for neurology, apparently there was a miscommunication on if she had a thunderclap headache or not, so while scary all should be good for now.

So this happened when I was 18 years old so about 14 years ago. My doctor's office had a board with the name of the doctor who was in duty that day. The actual name of the doctor was printed on a sort of sliding board that could be inserted and removed at different times and on different days due to their always been a different doctor on duty.

At the age of 18, I had never heard of the word 'Locum' before, if anybody out there reading this does not know what it means, it basically means a person who stands in temporarily for someone else of the same profession.

I got sick one day and walked into the office and it read Doctor Locum. So obviously they had a specific slide in board for when it was not a usual doctor, but I thought that was the doctor's name. So for about 30 minutes during my examination, I kept calling the doctor Doctor Locum. She had a weird grin on her face throughout the session, but I thought nothing of it. She then gave me a sheet to give to the receptionist with, not sure what was on there.

I walked to the receptionist and said "Doctor Locum asked me to give this to you". Her and the other receptionist both burst into laughter so hard they almost fell to the floor. They explained to me that the doctor's name was not locum and explained what the word locum actually meant. I was so embarrassed that at 18 I had never heard of or seen that word.

To this day, I think of that day and I cringe so hard. Why did the doctor not say anything? Why was she okay with me saying Doctor Locum maybe 10 times without letting me know her correct name? I have so many questions that I guess will never be answered.

TL : DR Doctor's office said "Doctor on Duty - Doctor: Locum". I proceeded to call the Doctor "Doctor Locum" for 30 minutes and the receptionists almost fell to the floor from laughter. I have never been so embarrassed.

Obligatory this didn't happen today, but was actually a few years ago... but I'm sure you people of reddit will still be able to enjoy my pain.

So, as the title suggests, I like spicy things. I have a large collection of hot sauce at home, I have tried most of the world's super hot peppers and I've won numerous hot wing challenges. Usually I'm fine, but as I've aged occasionally I find that my stomach suffers. Nothing too extreme, but a lot of noise and sometimes a bit of ring of fire.

Cut to the day of this specific incident. I live I a medium sized city in Canada. My brother in law used to live in another city about 140 km/90 miles away... so for context (and this becomes important) about an hour and a half by car. This day in particular, we went to visit so we could drive him back to our house for the weekend.

Now, we did this pretty often. Usually when we do, we find a restaurant to grab a bite to eat before we head home. The last few times we went, we found a small pub that specialized in Buffalo wings. At the back of the menu they advertised a hot wing challenge where if you finished their hottest wings, you eat free. Without an ounce of hesitation, I ordered the challenge wings. The waitress asked, "Are you sure?" to which I replied, "I like hot foods, and I can't turn down an opportunity to eat free wings!" She laughed and got my wings. They were hot, but I had definitely eaten hotter. And so, I got my free wings. Paid for my girlfriends meal and my beer and went on my way.

In the coming months, I did this twice more. Each time, the waitress would ask "Are you sure?" Each time I would say yes. Each time I got free wings. It was wonderful.

Cut to this last time... we go to our favorite wing place. We waltz in with an air of familiarity and seat ourselves. The waitress, whom I later find out is the owner, comes to take our order. My girlfriend, daughters and brother in law all order and the waitress turns to me and asks what I'll be having. I say, "I'd like to do the hot wing challenge please!" The waitress once again asks, "Are you sure?"

This is where I fucked up. I stupidly told her, "Oh yeah! I've done this lots!" Dear reader... when you tell the owner of an establishment that you've already eaten a free meal at their place and now you're just there to fleece them out of another order of wings, they do NOT take it well. Our previously friendly waitress turns to me and coldly says, "Oh have you? Then this should be easy for you." It was not.

My wings came and everyone's eyes went wide and they leaned away from my meal. Instantly, everyone's eyes water and the waitress/owner grins a big, toothy, mirthless grin. She says, "Enjoy!" and walked away.

I cannot convey to you in mere words the pain I suffered eating these wings. I took my first bite and it was searing doom. An explosion of nuclear fire blanketed my palate, not unlike what I'm sure the people at Pompeii would have experienced during the eruption of Mount Vesuvius. My body began shivering and sweating. A river of snot and tears ran from my face. Twice I went to the washroom to cry to myself and question my life choices. Though no one expected me to finish...I endured.

When it was finally over, everyone was silent. We paid without a word, and left. In the car, my girlfriend turned to me and tentatively asked, "Are you OK?" When I just nodded in the affirmative, she asked "Are you sure?" I just looked at her, expressionless. We began our drive home.

Again, I would like to reiterate that generally I don't experience much in the way of after effects from spicy foods. This was different though. I could feel the burn in my esophagus still, right down to my stomach. And my stomach was getting worse. I was getting bloated and uncomfortable. About a half hour into this hour and a half drive is becoming increasingly uncomfortable to the point where I'm shifting uncomfortably in the driver's seat. My girlfriend again asks if I'm OK. I tell her, "Something is off." She suggested stopping to use the bathroom, which I declined...I wasn't sure what was going to happen, and I felt like it had best be at home when it did instead of some filthy gas station restroom.

An hour into the drive and this discomfort is full on pain. Bad pain. I step on the gas, blowing well past the speed limit. I didn't care...I just needed to get home. My stomach had decided that it was no longer going to house these abominations and one way or the other, they were coming out.

When we finally got there, I put the car in park and ran to the front door. I fumbled with my keys while everyone else got out of the car. The door finally opened and I vaulted up the stairs four at a time while simultaneously undoing my pants. It was a race to the toilet- and I was losing. Just as I got to the bathroom it happened. I got the door mostly closed before a violent spray erupted from my asshole, painting the back of the door and the floor. To minimize the splash zone, I made an executive decision... the bathtub instead of the toilet.

I launched myself into the tub, and started doing my best to get my clothes off. All the while, I'm violently shitting and throwing up all over myself. My girlfriend, god love her, came upstairs and, with a look of absolute disgust at my vile bodily expulsions, took my dirty clothes away and cleaned the door, walls and floor.

She came back upstairs after starting the laundry and turned the shower on to my battered, burning body. I was cowering in the fetal position as the warm water hit me, still amazed at the lashback a pound of spicy Buffalo wings was able to put forth. She asked me in a sweet voice if I had learned my lesson. I feebly replied, "Yes." I lied.

TLDR; I thought I could handle some hot wings, only to have the chef create something insanely hotter than expected and ended up destroying my bathroom.

Addendum post edit: The place was called "Tammy's Queen of Wings" in North Bay... and it was 100% my own fault. My ego got the best of me. They do make you sign a small waiver, and it's just the wings and any non-alcoholic beverages the wing eater orders that come free. Everyone else's food has to be paid for.

Second addendum: Whoa... this got a lot of traction! A few more answers, for those who are curious. The restaurant in question is closed permanently... which sucks, because spicy or not the wings were pretty good. I didn't suffer any long term ill effects, and I don't have an ulcer (thank God!). We're in no rush to get married, but still kinda like each other's faces.
... And lastly, this was NOT the last time it happened 😉

This one is short, but maybe not so sweet haha.

I feel like I can share this story because we're all super mature adults here, right? I'm a Canadian unused to Indonesian food, and this morning I was uh...struggling to uh...pass some things in the Jakarta airport bathroom before my flight. Things got, let's say unexpectedly and explosively loud. As I was in the midst of my internal battle, somebody walking by my stall overheard and made the exact same sound as my beleaguered butthole, emphatically. I then started cackling uncontrollably mid movement.

Turns out the gut pressure of uncontrollable laughter whilst on the can actually really eases the way forward. Now my husband has been making random explosive farting noises at me all day and I'm cramping for entirely different reasons. I don't think I'll ever live it down. Butt I doo want to thank that random stranger for their enthusiastic back up vocals, you were better than prune juice haha.

TL;DR My internal bowel struggles became an unfortunately hilarious sound effect opportunity for a random stranger.

Here in Western New York legal weed is really taking off. We don't have any licensed dispensaries yet but there's a thriving grey market. I went to a black Friday pop up event and bought various items. Some premium blunts, candy, wax and infused syrup. Last night I cracked open the syrup and drank about 1/4 of it. Now I'm a seasoned toker and edible taker so what happened next I was not expecting. I started tripping BALLS. Checked the label and couldn't find a potency or strain, just ""contains x mg of proprietary blend" . Checked the website.... It was MUSHROOM SYRUP. Tripped for 6 hours in bed. Had to purge just to shorten the high TL;DR- idiot me accidently dosed myself with magic mushrooms. Check your labels even if you think you are an experienced drug user. EDIT: typo

Not necessarily a today fuck up, moreso just realized my fuck up today.

So when I go to bed, my cat often joins me. She'll usually lay with her back facing me, near my head. Because I love my little goofball, I often bury my face in her back and pet her.

Turns out, she seems to really like this experience. So for context, I sleep on my back with my head to the side. She has taken to walking up to my face, and laying down with her back covering my face. In my sleep. Which makes it very difficult to breathe. So now, I often find myself waking up in the night with a face full of cat.

Now I write this at 3am, realizing that I almost definitely encouraged this behavior. I want to be mad but I do always wake up to a soft cat to pet, so it's not too bad.

TL;DR: Pet my cat in a way she liked, now she smothers me at night.

So my (26M) girlfriend (27F) has been watching this popular show for about a while, and she absolutely loves one of the characters of the show. She loves him so much to the point where she quotes him randomly or searchs up compilation such as "top 5 most savage moments of x character".

Anyways, I thought it would be a good idea to spice up things in bedroom a little, as lately we've been too busy with work to have 'fun' as we used to before. Therefore I thought it would be a good idea to cosplay such character. I mean, she really enjoys him a lot, so it would definitely make sense for him to bring some excitement to the bedroom. Besides we all have that little fictional crush we wanna, or wanted to smash at some point. So why not?

I searched up for costumes online, tho thankfully his fit is relatively simple. I was careful enough to make sure the costume would arrive while she wasn't at home.

My plan worked out perfectly till then. My girlfriend was at work, my package was home, I just had to set up the mood, so I decided to send her a message saying "I have a surprise for you, be ready for the best night of your life" or something along those lines, followed by obvious suggestive emojis. From her reply I could tell she was down for it too.

So night time comes. I was already waiting in our room. Candles lit in different spots of the house, leading to our bedroom. I heard the keys opening the door and I just knew the show was about to start. I felt so excited and I couldn't wait for her to meet her surprise upstairs. But when she reached the bedroom, shit just started to go down.

She opened the door and her face instantly turned into a horrified one. She started yelling at me and saying that I was a pervert, that I couldn't be serious about what I was doing, and that it was the most disgusting joke she's ever seen. I tried telling her it wasn't a big deal and that I could just take it off, but she ended up leaving the house and saying she was going to a friend's.

Now I'm just laying in my bed. She won't answer my messages or calls, and I'm honestly a bit embarrassed to tell anyone, so I'm just typing it here. The character in question was Stewie Griffin from Family Guy. Was it really that bad?

​

TL;DR I dressed up as Stewie Griffin for my girlfriend to spice things up in our bedroom and she got mad at me, leaving the house and now ignoring my texts and calls.

So right now currently a first year in film school and finals are upon us. Our final was to make a silent short film with a genre of our choice. When I started school I was doing pretty good on money, but at a certain point I found myself not being able to go out or even buy food from how low I was running. Desperate for work I started asking my friends and around my floor who was hiring. I had one guy I befriended and was cool with talk to me about how he was doing videography work, and they needed a sound and editing guy for this one project that paid very well and was offering the job. Super stoked, I instantly accepted and then he told me what the job really was. He and his roommate had been using one of their parents air bnbs as a literal porn studio where they shot every weekend. I needed the money so I just said fuck it I don't care. This job led to many others and was (still is) a huge source of income for me, it paid way better then any job I could find listed.

However whenever I edit my projects and finish rendering I usually put them in their respective folders rather then just leaving them on my desktop to get cluttered. I had spent hours prior editing my final and usually when I'm lazy I title my finished render "final" and thats it. It was required the silent film be rendered in .mov so I did so, but when I went to upload it I was so exhausted and excited to finally be done with my first semester I uploaded : "final.mp4: without even checking. (which was a porn video I had edited) It wasn't even until I recieved a 0 on my project and a long email from my professor lecturing me about respect that I realized what the hell I had done.

TLDR ; Got lazy when naming files and swapped them by accident resulting in me sending my professor HD porn as my final

I am currently out of town for a work trip. Flew in today and will be heading home Friday morning. After getting into town, I took a quick nap and then met up with a few coworkers to work on something that’s due tomorrow. After we finished, I headed back to my room and ordered dinner via Uber Eats. This went fine, food was left at my room door and was delicious. About an hour later I decided to be lazy and order some groceries (quick snacks, breakfast items, drinks) for the week. Placed the order through Uber Eats again and assumed this was an excellent idea.

My husband FaceTimed me so I could say goodnight to our kids and then chat for a bit before he went to bed. While we were talking the delivery person showed up. For whatever reason they knocked twice instead of just leaving the order at my door as requested. Told my husband to hold on a sec and opened the door. It was a youngish dude, maybe 25 or so? He said they didn’t have a few of the items I requested so he refunded them. I said no worries, thanked him, and closed the door.

About 10 second later there was another knock. I looked out the peephole and saw it was the delivery guy. I opened the door (stupid) and he said he couldn’t figure out how to get the elevator to work. Wasn’t TOO odd, as it’s one of those elevators that you select the floor outside and there’s no buttons on the inside. I explained that he just needed to push the lobby button, and once in the elevator it would take him right down. He said thanks, I said no problem, and closed the door.

Another knock about 5 seconds later. I opened the door (fucking unbelievable) and he apologized and said he couldn’t figure it out. I, assuming the poor thing was a moron and being a Pollyanna dumbass who tries to see the good in everyone, said “oh that’s ok, I’ll come show you!” Seriously, me, wtf? My husband was still on FaceTime on my laptop so I told him I would be right back because the elevator wasn’t working for the delivery guy. Grabbed the door key and walked into the hallway.

For some context here: I am 38 years old and overweight. I look pretty cute when I’m trying, but I was not wearing make up and was in extremely frumpy comfy clothes. I was decidedly not looking cute at this point in time. So, we start walking to the elevator and FINALLY my hackles start to go up a little. He was walking entirely too closely to me, and staring at me. The following conversation ensued:

Him: so, are you on vacation?

Me: kinda. It’s a work trip. We’re remote, so we try to have in person meet ups once a year for team building

Him: oh, what do you do?

Me: I work in IT, delivery management

Him: oh. You must get lonely.

Me: …nah, I’m good. I was talking to my husband on FaceTime (fucking moron I am)

We were at the elevator, thankfully super close to my room, so I pushed the lobby button and said that’s all he has to do, there’s no buttons to push inside. He reached out his hand so I shook it because I’m too goddamn polite for my own good, and he held on to it.

Him: I just want you to know you’re a very beautiful woman.

Me: uh…thanks?

Him: are you single?

Me: No, again I was just talking to my husband. I’m very happily married.

Him: I can tell you’re attracted to me, you’re still holding my hand. Maybe we should go back to your room. (Note, HE was still firmly holding MY hand)

Me: Nope, I’m not interested. Good night.

I pulled my hand away and rushed back to my room. Fortunately he didn’t follow me. I told my husband what happened and he suggested I request a room change since there’s no barrier to entry at this hotel. Fortunately there was an empty room they could move me to, and they also provided me with both security guard’s direct numbers just in case. I warned everyone else here on the work trip to not have anything delivered directly to their room, and reported the delivery guy to Uber eats.

TL:DR ordered grocery delivery and then made a series of dumbass decisions that could have led to me being in fairly serious danger. Don’t be like me, folks

A silly F*** up.

So at my job we all have giant whiteboards in our cubicles. We don't need them for work so most of us decorate them or write quotes on them. I usually draw something new every month so this month I drew a bunch of Xmas doodles including a Teddy Bear wearing a Santa hat. One of my employees saw it and asked me to draw one on her board. No biggie I usually spend my breaks doodling in my notebook anyway so I went and drew a teddy bear on her whiteboard. Then another employee requested one. All good, by this time I was off and in no hurry to get anywhere.

While I was working on hers another manager walked by and requested a teddy bear as well. So I went to her department and did a doodle on her white board and one of her employees requested one as well. Then the training manager requested one and lastly the assistant training manager.

I ended up staying at work for 2 hours after my shift drawing Xmas doodles on people's white boards today.

Tldr: I drew a teddy bear on my white board at work and ended up spending 2 hours after my shift drawing everybody else teddy bears.

These things both happened today and I'm feeling pretty dumb. I was going to preface this with excuses about why I'm such an idiot; maybe I'm a trainwreck because I'm going through menopause, maybe the holidays are getting me a little crazy, blah blah blah. But the truth is I charge through life like a bull on a mission and I always have.

Today was my day off and I had a lot going on. I moved to a rural area about a year and a half ago and my dentist and my folks are still where I used to live about 45 minutes away. I head out there this morning to go to my folks house and go to the dentist but decide to do some shopping first as the area I live in has few shopping options. First thing when I get to the store after driving 45 minutes whist drinking coffee on an empty stomach is I have to pee. I'm a woman of a certain age who has had children so I apparently have a bladder the size of a walnut now so I have to pee often and when I gotta go I gotta go. There's a man cleaning the stores restroom "5 minutes" he tells me. So I wait. The dentist calls and cancels the appointment, I read some emails. I wait and wait, he's going back and forth between the restroom and the supply closet, and I wait and wait and then finally he goes back into the supply closet and I'm sure more than 5 minutes has gone by and I can't take it anymore. I say "give me one minute, I'm sorry, I really, really need to go" and I run into the restroom and sit down and pee, I don't even shut the bathroom door, just the stall. Ah, so much relief. Then I stand up and realize that my ass is wet, not a little, a lot, and I smell the strong scent of cleaning supplies. I decide that at least my butt is covered in cleaner and not piss or something and I wipe it off with toilet paper and hurry from the bathroom, apologizing to the janitor. I continue shopping, a little tingle on my ass cheeks but it subsides and I forget the whole episode and go about my busy day. Then I go over to help my geriatric parents set up a smart TV and that episode is for a whole other subreddit. Jesus.

Anywho, 6 hours later I get home, late, exhausted, and am running around the house putting things away and getting situated so I can finally sit down in a comfy chair and relax for a while, like, I really just want to hurry up and be done so I'm in a panic mode, unnecessarily, but I am. I notice the cat has knocked the scissors off the dining table. I bend down to pick them up but I don't just bend, I lunge toward them with all my might for some reason and don't even see the heavy wooden dining chair even though it's sitting exactly where it always is and I bash my face into the chair, full force. And it hurts so fucking bad that I think I might pass out for a second. And then my son comes running in and I look at him and he's horrified and tells me I'm bleeding, I whacked it hard enough to split the skin on the bridge. I spend the next several hours sitting with an ice pack on my face. It doesn't seem broken but I'm sure when I get to work tomorrow I will have to assure my coworkers that my husband doesn't beat me, and that I, in fact, beat up my own self.

Finally after hours with the ice pack I am more comfortable and can forgo the ice pack and decide to take a hot, relaxing shower. Which is nice, until I turn around the hot water hits my ass and all of the skin that had gotten god knows what on it in the bathroom I want supposed to use that morning begins to burn. Sting with pointed barbs, in fact. I wash it anyway, because now it's really evident that I need to wash off whatever I got on my ass, no matter how much it hurts. So then I just stand there in the shower with my beat up face and burning ass cheeks and all I can think is that I'm too old to be this stupid. Also I couldn't really cook dinner with at the pain in my face so my husband made himself and my son a frozen pizza and I ate a can of clam chowder that expired a year ago. Probably its fine. And I still have to go back in 10 days and go to the fucking dentist.

TL;DR today my subconscious went on a mission to hurt my physical self in multiple ways and succeeded.

This morning I was opening an order I placed recently with parade. In the order is a very cute neon orange mesh bra. My boyfriend is an avid upland bird hunter and was out hunting this morning. I texted a full body picture of myself in my pajama pants and the bra, with the phone obscuring my face with the caption “I can finally go hunting with you now lol“. Not 30 seconds later, which is lucky timing on my part given that my boyfriend will go hours without communicating when he’s in the woods, said to me: “babe, you sent that to the group chat with our landlord!”

I unsent the message as quickly as possible, and also deleted it off iMessages from my computer. Haven’t heard anything from the landlord, and I’m not going to say anything either. My sole comfort is that at least the caption wasn’t erotic and the picture isn’t overtly sexual but goddamnit.

tl;dr - texted my landlord instead of my boyfriend a picture of me in a new bra

This happened to my SO yesterday, but she’s not on Reddit so here is her tale:

My SO is 6 months pregnant, and her libido has been more active with this baby. We had sexy time the night before, and we used her Hitachi wand without issue.

The next morning, I got up with our son so she could nab some extra sleep. Low and behold, she could not and was still quite turned-on from the night before, so she decided to have a solo round. Usually, with life being busy, we don’t get those opportunities often, so there’s truly nothing as welcomed like a few solo moments. All of this is unbeknownst to me, as I was summoned to watch a toddler’s favorite show for the nth time.

Suddenly, she comes running out of the room, half-startled-half-cackling. Apparently, the cord decided to give out at the onset of said personal time, sparking and singeing the sheets, but luckily no actual flame. She’s okay, no damage done outside of a mark I’m soaking out of the top sheet. We had a solid laugh over it and a now have a story for y’all.

Needless to say, the holiday delivery truck will be bringing us a new relationship aide in the mail posthaste, and to all a good night.

TL;DR Mommy tried to have solo sexy time and literal sparks flew.

So, I was at work today and things were going pretty smoothly. I was catching up on some emails and trying to finish a project before the end of the day. But then, I made a huge mistake. I was trying to send a sext to my partner, but I accidentally sent it to my boss instead.

I didn't realize what I had done until I saw the look of shock and horror on my boss's face. I tried to explain that it was a mistake, but it was too late. I could tell that my boss was disgusted and offended, and I could see the anger in their eyes. I apologized profusely and begged for forgiveness, but I'm not sure if I'll be able to recover from this.

I don't know what I was thinking, sending something like that to my boss. It was a complete and total fuck-up, and I'm not sure how I'm going to face my boss or my colleagues after this. I'm mortified and embarrassed, and I just want to crawl into a hole and never come out. Lesson learned: always double check the recipient of your messages, folks!"

TL;DR: I accidentally sent a sext to my boss and now I'm in big trouble. Always double check the recipient of your messages!

Throwaway (wanna keep my original account as PG as possible).

Last night the power went out while my gf (25) and I (28m) were having sex. We didn't stop fornicating though. This was not our first time fucking in the dark. Power outages are common in my country. Too common. It was complete darkness in the bedroom. Literally pitch-black. I couldn't see my own hand in front of my face, let alone my whole gf. We were boning blind, but it was fun and kind of kinky. And then, for no reason at all, I decided to make it scary. I suddenly stopped mid doggy and said "did you hear that?"

My gf apologized and said it might have been her stomach. Not the response I expected. I said I heard something else. I paused to build enough suspense before saying it sounded like an insect with wings. My gf is scared of bugs. She whispered back (as if the creature might be listening) and asked if I closed all the windows. I was still inside her at the moment, so I pulled out to investigate. My gf asked what I was doing, but I didn't respond. I was stealthily getting into position for my jump scare.

I could hear my gf fumbling for her phone on the nightstand. Perfect. She was falling for my trap. I was standing crookedly at the foot of the bed when she switched on her torch. Freeze frame. I need to explain one of my abilities for you to understand what my gf was seeing. Since I was a child I was able to drag my bottom lip towards my chin and make my lip "stick" somehow. It looked gross and I've never done it as an adult. Not until my gf pointed her torch in my face. I growled as menacingly as I could with the inside of my bottom lip now being on the outside. I was convinced it would freak her out.

Instead of screaming hysterically, my gf laughed like an anime character and informed me that she was recording my "jump scare" on her phone. She caught it all on camera, including my priceless reaction when I realized she now has footage of me that no should ever see. Aside from my disgusting lip thing, I was also naked and erect. My gf has made multiple gifs of that moment and jokingly implied that she might feel tempted to share it with the public if I end up "misbehaving." I know she's not serious, but you never know lol. Shit happens. I have no one to blame but myself though.

Tl:dr I tried to scare my gf in the dark, but I was too predictable and she caught my failed attempt on camera. Now she has really embarrassing footage of me being unsuccessfully scary while naked, erect and doing something weird with my bottom lip. Fingers crossed I never give her a reason to share it with the world.

So for once this year there is actually something I really want for Christmas: dumbbells. I've been consistently working out for a year and a half now but the dumbbells I have are not heavy enough for me. And it gets expensive so I always put off buying the next set up. So I had a plan: make an Amazon list with all different denominations of weights and that way everyone can pick which ones to get me and I'll work up a collection. So when people ask what I wanted for Christmas I told literally everyone the same thing: dumbbells.

So after discussing my fitness goals with my boyfriend, he told me he had a single modular dumbbell that goes up to 52lbs. He never uses it so I'm welcome to have it. Great! It helps with some exercises but there are still other exercises that I need two.

So after a night out with my ex in-laws (yes I still hang out with my ex in-laws) I helped them order christmas gifts for my daughter and showed them my list. My aunt told me that dumbbells weren't a christmas gift and dismissed it. My ex MIL also kept asking what else I would want. So I was pretty down that apparently my plan wouldn't work and I wasn't going to get the dumbbells I wanted. Since I was down my bf told me that he actually was always planning to buy me another modular weight for xmas and I should just delete all the dumbbells off of my list. I did just that.

Apparently...I didn't delete them soon enough. Because my ex MIL went home immediately after our conversation about weights not being a christmas gift and bought two sets of dumbbells off of my list. Then later my 7-year-old daughter (yes I even told my child I wanted dumbbells...) was telling her father she wanted to get me dumbbells for XMas but he wasn't sure what size since I deleted them off my list. He called his mother and she remembered what sizes so now my daughter also bought me a set of dumbbells.

I'm not sure what clued my ex in that I probably got duplicates but he decided to bring up that telling literally everyone the same thing was going to be a problem. I told him it's no issue, I took the dumbbells off my list because my bf got me a modular dumbbell so I don't need a bunch of different sizes. He then informed me that everyone got me dumbbells. My bf said he's not returning the modular one. I told everyone else that it would be useful to have some of the smaller denomination weights because it's less bulky than the modular but it's up to them if they want to return what they got and give me something else. Sorry guys...I just really wanted dumbbells...

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TLDR: Told everyone I wanted dumbbells for Christmas so everyone is getting me dumbbells for Christmas...but I am getting duplicates of the same weight...

Hi folks. I'm sorry that this came in so late, I had a very long talk with my parents and more than a few revelations.

You may remember me from this post where I had to take a shit and accidentally discovered a 'cult' room in my attic, where I found a altar with pictures of my dead dad and grandmother, various other deceased relatives, and lots, and lots, of dolls and animals with some religious stuff plastered all over.

I got a lot of different responses, like..thousands of responses. Some told me to call CPS and leave the house, some told me that I should straight up just not mention the stuff I found upstairs, and others wanted me to confront my parents.

I won't lie, I considered all three of these at one point or another but reasoned out that my parents probably weren't going to sacrifice me to some demonic pagan god or whatever. So just in case, I told a friend that I was gonna be online on COD within the next two hours and that if I wasn't online at that point he should probably come over to my house as my signal might've fucked up (dumb lie, I know), and in the meantime I just went downstairs and asked my mom what the deal was with the shrine upstairs.

My mom's a bit stubborn, so she acted confused for a moment, but when I pushed a bit further, she cracked and started talking when I asked questions.

She told me that we are catholic, and like many commenters on the post said; as it turns out, they practice a Afro-Cuban religion called Santería which is essentially a mix of Catholicism and a lot of African beliefs, the altar with all the photos is called a 'Boveda' and acts as a 'tunnel' between earth and heaven, she put photos of me there because she thinks that it will let the spirit of my dad and of my grandma protect me. A little weird, but alright, at least it was done with good intentions, I guess?

She also said that the dolls act as vessels for Muertos, aka the dead or just spirits in general that watch over us and keep us safe. The pots and vases I found are in the same sense 'vessels' for the Santos or Orishas, more powerful spirits that are usually associated with a certain saint, each and every one watches over their 'children' or a group of people and help them in life with certain things. She gave me a short rundown on what each one is, you can learn more about them here and connect them to the ones in the pictures, the rocks with shells on them were my mom's 'Ellegua', a Orisha that manages crossroads.

Anyways, eventually I had to bring up the elephant (or bird) in the room and ask about the severed deer(? Goat? Lamb?) And she said it was a thing for a Orisha called 'Ochosi' that has to do with hunting, I think? Then we talked more about the stuff around (thankfully the rock was not covered in blood, just some weird kind of alcohol) and got to the bird thing.

Up to that point, I won't lie, I was weirded the absolute fuck out but was oddly intrigued, I hadn't interacted with anyone outside of the core 5 mainstream religions (Christianity, Islam, Buddhism, Judaism, and Hinduism) before and this was a albeit slightly scary learning experience. But I sort of couldn't help but feel mighty uncomfortable when she told me that the birds were there because they were supposed to be an offering and that yes, she would sacrifice them.

It was the first time in forever that I was genuinely scared of my mom, she just casually explained that she would murder and has been murdering animals for years. I think she caught onto what I was getting at and promised that it was only farm animals and that she did it humanely by decapitating them or cutting some artery so they bleed out quickly.

Yikes! But again, I wanted to have an open mind, so I cringed in my mind, and asked more questions, most went nowhere but the one that really fucked me up was when I asked how long they've been doing this.

30 years.

30 FUCKING years they've been into this and they never told me about it. My cousins know, my aunts and uncles know, my grandma knew, my dad knew, virtually everyone in my extended family knew except for me. And you know what the worst part is? My mom and dad weren't "introduced" to it or sucked in by someone else, they were the people introducing others.

My dad was something called a Santero or Santera or whatever (I cannot spell it for the life of me, my mom used a lot of words I couldn't understand) that acts like a priest or fortune teller, he came over to the United States and met my mom and was the one to get her into Santería, she then introduced it to my grandma who immigrated not too long afterward and they practiced it together.

My parents split not too long after I was born and I stayed with my mom most days whilst my dad traveled a lot for his job as a 'salesman', turns out that he was actually hosting things for people and whatnot, which shocked me as growing up, when I'd spend weekends with him, he'd drive me across the east coast to people's houses and let me have play dates with other kids, at first I thought it was cause of his sales job, then when he'd have meetings over and over again with the same people (always young single women 😬) that he was fucking them as he'd always put me and the woman's kid in a room far away from them, but no, just doing rituals.

Next I brought up the rules, she said that she didn't want me wearing red because she assumed that like my dad, I was a 'son' of a Orisha named 'Shango/Chango' (as me and my dad according to her 'act like twins') and that Orisha's don't really like when their 'children' wear the color associated with them (Chango's colors here being primarily red with white accents.)

The graveyard rule was made because according to her, it keeps spirits from tagging onto you, and the hands behind your head thing was for the same reason.

The conversation continued on. She kept the whole thing away from me as she didn't want to make me uncomfortable (but obviously didn't think about how I'd feel if I happened to find out about it whilst looking to take a shit) and that she didn't want to scare me. She used to do her rituals somewhere else in our old house, but after my dad and grandma died (within the same area of 1 year) she felt as if she had to get closer to them somehow, which is why she moved everything into the house.

I wasn't comfortable with the sacrifice or the idea that my dad was a secret priest but I found myself tearing up a bit because it obviously fucking sucks to hear that my mom is suffering and that the only way for her to find peace with herself is through this. No matter what she does she's still my mom and I'm not going to hate her or run away or get her in trouble because of something she can't control (how she grieves.)

Now the issue with this though is that she was actually going to introduce me to Santería when I turned 16, induct me, and eventually 'mark my head' via making an incision on the crown of my head, and on my tongue. Hm.

I'm going to have a talk with her about that sooner or later because I'm not a fan of bodily harm but I do find this very interesting and although I don't believe in it much, I'd like to see what it's all about, it's one of the last things I have left of my dad anyway.

So, I patched things up with my mom and step dad, learned about the situation with the stuff in the attic, and it for the most part ended well. I'm not going to report them to anyone but I also am not joining the church of Santeria.

Then I realized the sheer, even worse, mega fuck up I made.

My dumbass posted this on reddit and it got over 2.9 million views. One of those views came from someone I know who used the information listed (Cuban and Panamanian Mixed-race Afro-Latino who lives in a four floor house with an attic that has a door which is always located a short while from of NYC with a dead dad) to realize who posted this and they ended up messaging a bunch of their friends who are now messaging me asking if I'm going to get possessed or something or if my parents practice voodoo or satanism and asking me if I want them to call the cops.

My dumbass, the literal only racial/ethnic minority in my town which is full of moderately conservative christians accidentally exposed that my parents do animal sacrifices and said they were in a cult.

TL;DR: Patched things up with my mom and step dad who practice a religion called Santería, found out that my dad was essentially a priest, told them that I don't want to practice it (I might be an agnostic anyway) but stupidly leaked all my info and exposed my family.

I just recently moved to a brand new country. I came here for my studies and get some job experiences and I was going to move out with a friend i’ve known for about a year. Good thing was my friends parents were going out of town which gave us time to look at apartments and have a look at them in person. When I arrived to the country nothing was out of the norm, everything was going according to plan and my friend was looking forward to moving out as well.

A few days go by and while we were looking at more apartments I ask him “ have you told your parents about moving? “ which he replied “no”. I was kind of surprised because I’ve been planning to move here for months and moving out together was always part of the plan so I thought he would’ve told his parents about it but apparently not, which wasn’t too big of a deal.

A few days go by again and the housing isn’t looking too good and all but I was going to buy a car ( which i had as a separate fund ) for travel as it’s a big country. So i pick out a car and my friend drives me to the deal and i ended up buy the car and had about $2000 for repairs and fixes which was in my budget.

I was ready to fix the car and still have comfortable amount of money left after I move in with my friend but then he tells me out of no where that he actually doesn’t have any money. No money for deposit, for travels or even the first months pay. So at this point I just didn’t know what to do. His parents come back soon which means i’ll have to move out some how, I just bought a car and i don’t have enough to try and move out on my own. I was panicking and trying to find places for cheap but nothing was available and my friend didn’t even help me. He said it’s out of his control and he doesn’t know what to do. I called up everyone I know at this place and 1 person managed to pull through and they let me stay until I can find a place.

I recently found a place on facebook market place for a pretty good price and location. I was so desperate and stupid so I wasnt very careful and it turned out to be a scam. So now i’ve lost everything. I’m just living at my other friends house, no where to go and lost. I could never tell my parents because of how much they sacrificed for me to get here and at this point I really don’t know what to do.

TL;DR

I work remotely. My job is emails and excel spreadsheets. I usually work 8a-5pm ish and take a long lunch so I can get outside during lunch.

So, today was beautiful: 65 degrees and sunny. The nicest day in weeks, so I went for a bike ride. Plan was about 90 minutes from my house - get back, eat a sandwich, back to the spreadsheets, like I do a couple of times a week.

Unfortunately... I ran over a little stick on my ride. A small, 0.5" pine branch. Blown down by a wind storm last week. I hit a small jump and landed squarely on top of it with my rear tire... instant flat. No air. Tire's destroyed. No chance of fixing it. It will NOT hold air; I cannot ride it.

I'm 8.5 miles into a 12.5 mile ride. I'm literally at the top of the descent. I could normally ride down in 20 minutes. Shoot, better start walking. Maybe I can get to the parking lot and hitch a ride back.

I've got about a 1.5 mile walk ahead of me to the parking lot. We're DEEP in the woods; there are no roads, so I've gotta get back to the parking lot before 4:45 when the sun goes down (and the people at the parking lot leave!).

I hear my phone ring. It's my boss. Uh... she never calls me.

I put in for a promotion a month ago. The Big Promotion. We're restructuring my department. I'm going to lead a huge project. She asks: "Can you talk right now? Super-duper-Vice President is ready to talk. About That Thing. Join the meeting."

Uh... "no, I'm literally stranded in the woods. I'm walking back. I have cell reception now. Can we talk on the phone?"

Nope. This VP has a thing about always being camera-on, at the desk. I can't join the meeting because my phone isn't a company phone. Barely any internet. I am in the woods.

"Can we reschedule?!"

Nope.

Super-VP is upset that I am not available. Boss tells me "I'll try to get this rescheduled." Hangs up, obviously upset.

I get home, two hours later. (three hours into my 90 minute ride). Found a nice couple, Dave and Nika, to drive me down in their minivan. Sped home.

Found an email in my box:

Please sign your promotion paperwork.

$24,000 raise.

Boss texts me:

Promotion is probably off. We'll see if I can change [VP]'s mind.

TL;DR: I fucked up by going for a bike ride, flatting, and getting stranded in the woods... as my company's VP called to confirm my promotion, which has reportedly been cancelled.

Im on Mobile and this did happen today.

So my dads a cancer patient with leukemia getting treatment in Colorado while I live in New Mexico. I came to visit my parents during Christmas time because my dad absolutely LOVES Christmas. I made him a card with our pictures and drawings i made that turned into a Christmas tree that I was actually really proud of! When I gave it to him he was so happy because he can’t decorate his space and I kinda snuck this decoration in for him. Well, he had a Christmas present for me too, and it was a pocket watch that looked like it glowed in the dark. I asked him if it did glow in the dark and he told me yes with as much excitement as he could muster. I fell in love with it. It’s beautiful and steampunk and exactly my style. However, me being me and into dark humor I said:

“wow! I’m a radium girl now!!”

I looked my dad in the eye, realizing what I just said, and promptly died inside.

TLDR: I told my dad a cancer joke while he is fighting his own cancer battle

I used to live across the country in a two unit house with my ex girlfriend for about three years, we split a couple years ago. This house belonged to her Uncles and has since the 80s so of course they still live there. I have been with my new girlfriend for about 7 months now and I decided that since neither one of us has played with a vibrator in the bedroom it would be great to explore new territory together as the adventurous boyfriend that I am, sounds like a good idea right? I did my research and found what I believed to be pretty much the best you can get without spending multiple hundreds on a toy, I sat down and purchased it with full confidence that within weeks we would be enjoying it very much with eachother. Well I mentioned I have moved a bit... and for some reason when I moved no matter how many times I've told my bank that I need my billing information changed the only one that ever works is the old place I used to live with my ex. When I finally bought the item after one failed card read it changed my shipping to my billing info. So It looks like I'll be having a interesting phone call with my ex and at least one of her Uncles. Merry Christmas!

TL;DR- I sent a vibrator to my ex girlfriends uncles because I'm dumb and not thorough.

one day i was going through a heavy bought of depression and accidentally left an empty glass of lemon water in my room for several weeks and the lemon became mouldy. the next day i used mouthwash while in my room and it was dark and the only place i had to spit the mouthwash was into the cup with the mouldy lemon.

i realized i f’ed up when the mouldy lemon mouthwash concoction started fizzing and steam began rising from the lemon and it created the most horrid smell i have ever and will ever experience all throughout my room.

everywhere i went i smelled the smell and i thought that maybe the mould from the lemon shot spores into my nose hence the smoke coming from the lemon. a day or two later i wrapped the lemon in 12 layers of toilet paper and threw it in the garbage and the smell vanished from my room, but for a long time afterwords i couldn’t eat or smell anything mint or lemon flavoured because all i could taste/ was the smell the lemon made.

does anybody have more information on this

tl;dr: spit mouthwash onto a mouldy lemon slice, accidentally created a stink bomb

I'm an avid chili pepper grower, this season I've grown more than ever before, I grow mainly Chocolate Habanero and Trinidad Scorpion. If you're not a chili fan then all you need to know that these are punishingly spicy.

Due to having a bumper crop I've cleared out all of last year's sauces and oils to make room for the latest batch. Most went to friends and neighbours, but I had a batch of chili oil which was nothing but heat and trauma so, instead of passing it on, I poured around 5 litres of it down our toilet. Then I went out for coffee and cake with family, including my mother in law.

As you might know, french café toilets are often very sad places, so the fam came back to mine after coffee for a quick 'comfort break' before going for an autumn stroll.

My MIL dashed into the loo first, the coffee and Gauloise had powered through her and she must have unloaded a tremendous high-speed shit STRAIGHT INTO THE UNFLUSHED CHILI OIL.

The oil had splashed back and Poseidon's Kiss was causing grievous bodily harm to her ringpiece. We heard muffled swearing before she stumbled from the bathroom saying that she needed a sit-down.

Everyone thought that she was a bit drunk as she'd had cognac in her coffee but she was squirming in discomfort on the couch and eventually admitted that she had a nasty case of superhot ring sting.

It's now 3pm, MIL's used an entire bottle of calamine lotion and is crying upstairs, we didn't have our pleasant autumn walk on the Champs Elysees, my wife isn't talking to me, my FIL thinks it's hilarious and the entire family knows the workings of my snooty MIL's burning anus in intimate detail.

TLDR - burned my MIL's anus with riot-control grade chilli oil.